The Inventor's Journal revised part two
by Lady Josephina
Summary: The second chapter of Edward's origin. Hope you like


August 19th, 1969

5:33 pm

So much has happened. I cant believe I put off writing for so long! Its amazing how time slips away. I'll start from the beginning.  
My creation has a name. He is Edward Adam Brightman. A most fitting title for such a sublime creature. 

Things got off to a shaky start.  
After completing his face and all its fixtures, I tried to teach him to walk. His bottomless eyes watched my every movement. There was no doubt in my mind he could learn.

Unstrapping him from the table, I placed Edward in my chair. He was both curious and apprehensive about the transition.  
"There's no need to be frightened" I reassured. "It's good to learn new things." 

I demonstrated the motion of walking. Making sure I emphasized the heel-to-toe action. Edward stared at my feet and then finally his own. As if finally understanding what they were for.  
"Lets try it together, shall we?"

Holding his arms, I guided my boy across the floor. His legs moved in a stiff, unnatural fashion. But soon his movements became more fluid.  
I could have sworn I saw a tiny smile steel across his face. 

That's when everything fell apart...

Edward's left foot suddenly slipped out from under him, causing him to flail violently. One bladed finger ran across his chin. A thin trickle of blood dripped down his buckled neck.

My boy immediately knew he was hurt. Strange gasping whimpers heaved from his throat. As if he were trying to cry but unable to.  
Quickly I enfolded him in a tight hug.  
"Alright... I think our first lesson was a little too advanced. We'll just take things one step at a time." 

6:15 pm

After our little accident, I disconnected the scissors hands. I'll reattach them when he gets more coordinated.  
I want Edward to learn to use his hands responsibly. A blade can be our worst enemy or our greatest ally. When he masters his hands, then I'll know he is ready for real ones. 

If teaching Edward to walk proved anything, it meant I had to take my time with him. I was so eager to show him everything the world had to offer, I forgot he is still primitive.

We started off with simple auditory and visual stimulation. Edward greatly enjoys being read to. At first I had no idea what I could possibly read to him. I'm quite certain "A Pictorial History of Interchangeable Mechanics" wouldn't do. Thankfully my savior came in an old volume of Fairy Tales. God only knew where I obtained it from.

The next day I introduced Edward to speech. I wanted him to get used to his mouth and throat before he attempts eating.  
"I know you can understand me" I said. "But I want to understand you. I have to know how you're feeling... What you're thinking..."

I cant get over how quick my boy is. Such an inquisitive mind! I say a word and he repeats. It usually takes him a few try's but he eventually gets it out.  
"Say 'Edward'"

His brow furrows as he tried to pronounce it.  
"Eh... Ehh... Ehhd-waaarrd."

"That was good. Try to sound it out."  
"Ehh... Ehhd-waard."

"Yes I can understand that. Very good! You're doing wonderfully, Edward."  
My boy looked down at himself and then at me. 

"Ed-ward?" he asked. His voice both masculine and childlike.

"That's right. Edward is your name. Everything in the world has one."

My boy looked at me for a long time. His shadowy eyes probing the depths of my soul. After what seemed like hours, he tapped me with the stump of his arm.

"Oh... you want to know who I am. You can call me 'Father.'"

August 21st  
3:44 pm 

After more speech lessons, I decided Edward was ready for food. Since he does not breathe there is no need to worry about choking.

His first meal consisted foods that would be easy for him to masticate.  
A plate of banana slices and applesauce. 

"Would you like me to feed you?"  
My boy smiled in agreement.

Once again my ambition for Edward overshadowed his abilities. Our first meal was anything but tidy. While my boy mastered chewing, he had difficulty keeping the food in his mouth. Gobs of pre-chewed food repeatedly fell onto his lap.

"No, no. We chew with our mouth closed. Like this."  
As with everything I taught him, demonstration worked the best. After a few more unsuccessful tries, Edward was finally able to eat cleanly. 

8:30 pm

Bed time also proved to be a challenge. Edward did not understand the concept of sleep. Every time I put him to bed, he would get up a few moments later. I cant begin to tell how man times I found him wandering around the main hall. But I suppose I cant blame him. Edward wants to explore everything. Its impossible to quell that kind of curiosity.

"You must sleep, Edward" I sighed. "People need rest and so do you."  
But my boy was undeterred. Wrapped in his handless arms was the Fairy Tales tome.

"Story..." he murmured innocently.  
My heart softened at his request.

"Alright. One story, but then its right to sleep."

Out of all the places for Edward to sleep, he had to choose a fireplace.  
I cant understand why. I have a spare bedroom that would be perfect. And yet he preferred the tiniest nook in the house. I'll have to recheck my notes on Cerebral Mechanics. 

"Story..." Edward chirped again.  
"Yes, I know. I promised you a story. Now what should we read..."

As I flipped through the pages, an old photograph fell from the book. My eyes moistened at the sight of it.  
_...Oh Emma..._

"Emm-ah?" Edward questioned.  
"Yes" I struggled. "Emma was my wife."

Edward cocked his head to the side. I could tell I was creating more questions than answers.

"You see when two people love each other very much, they get married. I loved Emma, so I married her."  
Gently I held the picture infront of him. 

"This was us when we were much younger. We went to Paris for our honeymoon."  
Edward looked at the browned photograph for a long time. A young couple stood infront of Notre Dame cathedral smiling brightly. On the back, Emma had written a message.

Our first holiday together:  
Paris, France 1932 

Finally I snapped myself out of the memory. Edward was waiting patiently for his story. Picking up the book, I found where the picture had been stashed.

It was Carlo Collodi's "Pinocchio".


End file.
